Hiding My Heart
by LLockedOut
Summary: When Leona Chapheau moved in with her father in Boston, she expected his life to be hectic. What she didn't expect was to get caught up in the games of the Son's of Liberty, The Templar's and an Assassin. Leona is a strong willed woman with a fiery determination, maybe she's just what Connor needs to show him that he doesn't need to stay trapped in his self-made solitude. Connor/OC
1. Chapter 1

**Welcome, One and All! So this of course is an Assassin's Creed III Connor/OC story. If none of that appeals to you then this isn't the place for you :)**

**The title, Hiding My Heart, is an Adele song. Go listen to it. It suits Connor's moody 'boo-hoo I'm alone' attitude. **

**Those of you who read my other stories, don't worry I'm still continuing them! I've just been playing AC nonstop and I can't get this idea out of my head. I was going to write this after I finished my John Blake/OC story but no matter how hard I tried to focus on editing the chapters Connor was it the back of my mind screaming 'My turn! My turn!'**

**So here it is :)**

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_Boston 1773_

"Papa!"

Leona Chapheau exasperatedly called for her father as she hurried around the old Boston house. Since moving in with her father last year the young woman had been helping the old man get his life in order. After the bitter divorce from her mother when Leona was eight, Stephane Chapheau left their small Montreal home. He took up his father's old post as a chief and his father's old drinking habit. When life got too dull he up and moved to Boston in 1764. He kept in contact with his daughter much to his ex-wife's dismay. Leona never got along well with her mother, probably because she was strong willed and hard headed like her father, so once she was sixteen she packed her bags and travel to Boston. Her father, while surprised, welcomed her with somewhat open arms. He was working at a local tavern and Leona was more than happy to help. A year later she was able to handle the bar alone on its busiest nights and still keep the place clean and tidy. She also helped curb her father's drinking to a moderate level and kept the house in a livable condition.

In return, Stephane showed Le the love she never got from her mother. To him, she wasn't an object to be dolled up and paraded around. He trusted her to make the right choices, and never pestered his daughter about being 'lady-like'. It wasn't that Leona didn't like being a lady, she did, she just also liked to get her hands dirty. As a child she would climb trees in her dresses and chase animals around the mud in her church clothes. When Stephane had still lived with them, he would take Le out horseback riding and teach her how to sword fight. Her mother was constantly scolding her, saying that wasn't how proper women behaved. The young woman rolled her eyes at the thought of her mother's scolding. She loved to wear dresses as much has trousers, which her mother would NEVER let her wear. Luckily when repairs or whatnot need to be done and Stephane was too drunk or hung-over to do it, Leona rose to the challenge. She couldn't even count the number of times she's had to ride around town for supplies or fix something in the tavern or house. However she wasn't stupid, and knew that a lady in trousers wouldn't be acceptable to the rest of the town. So she would tie up her hair and tuck it under her large hat as well as wear a baggy tunic. The merchants that were close with Stephane knew of Leona, so they went along with her disguise whenever she was browsing or buying their wares. She tried to stick to these shops, not wanted to get caught by the red coats. They'd probably arrest her, those filthy lobsters.

Speaking of which, if they didn't get going they'd be in trouble with the guards. Heaven forbid they don't get their midday ale. Running a hand through her dark hair, Leona let out a sigh. They were going to be late _again_. Walking into the kitchen, her burgundy dress fluttered around her feet as she grabbed two clean aprons from the wash bins. Folding them neatly and tucking them under her arm she called for her father again. She heard him start down the stairs, grumbling in French as he got to the main floor.

"Oh la vache, girl! I 'eard you the first time."

Stephane rounded the corner, a sour look on his face. Leona shook her head at her father's crappiness. His face looked tired and his clothes were wrinkled. She assumed he was working off a hangover, as usual. Her father's dark brown eyes glared back at her grey ones. He cursed her for waking him up so early. Walking over to him she leaned up and placed a kiss on his cheek. "Come on" she said with a smile, "we have to open the tavern in an hour."

Walking out into the crisp morning air, she smiled at the sleeping city. Back home she had hated getting up early but something about Boston changed that. Even when Leona didn't have to open the tavern she would wake up at the break of dawn. She loved to wander the cobblestone streets as the morning fog rose. It was so quiet and serene, nothing like midday. No merchants were shouting to promote their wares and no guards were yelling at innocent citizens. However while the quiet was nice, her favorite part was the view. Boston was a beautiful city on its own, but when the sun was rising it bathed the town in a golden blanket that gave it a magical quality. Today was that kind of morning. The weather was still warm, so Leona wore nothing over her long dress. She tilted her head back as she walked, enjoying the warmth of the sun on her skin. Her father trailed behind her with a hand over his eyes to shield them from the light. Few people took the time to enjoy such simple beauties. Leona was not blind to the problems of her city, but small moments like this reminded her that there was always a light at the end of the tunnel.

The young woman was brought out of her reverie when a sheet of paper caught her eye. It drifted above the rooftops, the wind making it dance. What was more surprising to her was the person that appeared to be chasing it. Their face was shadowed by a hood, but the broad shoulders told her the person was a male. He was clad in all white with bits of dark blue from what she could tell, as he was quickly racing after the paper. She was mesmerized for a moment by his grace as he leapt from one building to the next. The sun shone on his white attire and seemed to make him glow. He almost looked like a spirit, flying through the air. She bit her lip and tried to hold back a smile. The supernatural always interested Leona. Her mind began to think of all the possibilities. Perhaps he was a fallen solider, chasing a letter from his lover that he never got to read before he died. Maybe he was an ancient warrior and the sheet was his letter into his people's sacred afterlife. The sheet he was chasing dipped down behind the old print shop and the man disappeared after it. _How strange_, she mused. She knew he couldn't possibly be a spirit, but that would make more sense than a normal man wearing a white robe and chasing papers over rooftops. Her father poked her side, and Leona realized she had stopped walking.

"Come on, girl" he grumbled, "I didn't get up early to watch the clouds."

"Pardon, Papa" she replied, linking her arm with his. "Let's be on our way!"

()()()()()

It was a slowly morning. The owner, William Molineux, was out running errands and there hadn't been a customer for a couple hours. Leona was drying the last of the tankards when the door of the tavern swung open. She looked up and smiled as a tall dark haired man walked in. He wore a green over coat and dark trousers. He flashed her a charming smile and sat at the bar stool across from her.

"Now, what's a charming young lady like yourself doing working at a bar?" he grinned.

Leona rolled her eyes but smiled all the same. "Always a charmer, aren't you Mr. Adams. What can I get for ya?"

His grin widened. "First you can call me Samuel, darling. I tell you that every day it seems! And the usual pint please."

"Drinking this early? Picking up some bad habits from Papa!" She laughed. They made small talk as she got him his drink and as she began to scrub down the bar.

"Oi, Le!" Stephane called from the kitchen of the tavern. "Can ya 'ead down to the general store for me? The table in the back is a lil' wobbly. We're gonna need some wood to replace one of the front legs."

Since all she had to do was order the material for the tavern, Leona wouldn't have to go home and change. It wasn't too busy Leona could pop out and be back before the evening rush. She untied her apron as her father exited the kitchen and headed to cover her at the bar. She gave him a kiss on the cheek before grabbing the coin purse under the bar and heading out.

"Wait!"

Leona paused with her hand on the door and turned.

"I'm meeting some friends in the market, I'll come with you" Samuel offered.

The woman smiled and nodded, grateful for the company. Samuel held the door open for Leona and she walked back into the Boston sunshine. The older man offered her his arm, which she gladly took, and the pair set off down the street. They reached Samuel's destination first and, after assuring the man that she would be fine on her own, the brunette continued on her way. While she was letting her eyes drift around the carts as she walked by them, a familiar figure caught her eye. She watched as the hooded man in white made his way through the crowded streets, taking time to analyze his clothing. _What a peculiar outfit _she thought to herself, _he looks so out of place. _While that may have been so, the intricacies of his attire were beautiful. Even from a far distance Leona could tell that it was more than just clothing. Curiosity got the better of her and before she knew it she was weaving through the crowds after him. The man reminded her of a wolf, skulking around the woods for its prey. He was tall, a good few inches taller than her 5 7' form, making him stand out even more in the mass of people. Despite there being people everyone, he managed to move so smoothly through them. Oddly enough, given all his peculiarities, no one seemed to notice the man. Not one person looked up at him as he passed by. Perhaps he was a spirit among the living. Question began to fly around the woman's mind. Who was this man, and what was he doing in Boston? Leona had only been in the city for a year, but she was positive she had never seen this man or anyone like him before. Not even back in Montreal. She was almost right behind him when he made a sharp turn down an alley way. Leona went to follow, but was knocked sideways by a man carrying a large crate.

"Watch it" he growled, before stepping around her and continuing on.

The young woman glared at the man's back before turning and hurrying down the alley. She was too late however, the hooded man was gone. Circling around herself, she found no sign of the stranger. However she did see a familiar piece of paper. Grey eyes opened wide as she darted after the page. She zigzagged down the alleyways no longer caring about going to the store. Making a sharp turn, Leona found herself at a dead end. She watched as the sheet drifted upwards a stack of cargo, her determination setting it. What was so interesting about it that the mysterious hooded man would chase the paper across rooftops? Was it a ghost sheet of paper? Without thinking, Leona raced forwards and leaped onto one of the barrels. She then quickly climbed up onto the crates behind it as her fingers grazed the edge of the page. Grasping the window frame for support, the woman stood on her tiptoes and stretched her free arm upwards.

"Got you!" she exclaimed, holding the sheet of paper tightly.

Turning around she wobbled slightly, realizing she was quite high off the ground. She crouched down and placed her hands on the crate before jumping down to the barrel once more. From there she did the same thing to land on the ground. She dusted off her dress with one hand and held the paper up with the other.

()()()()()

_Connor crouched atop a worn roof, starting down at the ground below him. He watched the girl look around the empty alley for him. Who was she? Why was she following him? He had sensed her presence a few streets prior, he felt her eyes digging into his back. Could she be working with his father? No, she looked too innocent. Then why did she follow him? He had been in Boston for a day now, looking for Samuel Adams. Normally he passed through people without so much as a glance in his direction. Yet this girl had seen noticed him twice. Granted the first time had been his own fault. He should have known better than to free-run across the rooftops during the day. He was just lucky it was her that saw and not one of the redcoats. Connor brought his thoughts back to the girl as she took off down the alley again. Confused by her sudden action, he followed her. The girl raced from alley to alley, her focus never faltering. _This is a dead end _he thought to himself as she made a sharp turn. _

_He watched her curiously as she paused and stared straight ahead. Then he saw it. One of Ben's stupid Almanac pages! Connor debated swooping down and snatching it before racing off again, but something kept him in his place. He wanted to know more about this girl, who chased strangers and random papers through back alleys. His dark eyes widened in surprise as he saw the girl dash forwards after the page. Muscles tensing, he waited for her to hit the stack of cargo face first but was shocked to see her gracefully leap onto the barrel in front of her. She then climbed up the larger crate behind it and reached up to the sheet. "Got you!" Her voice was soft and feminine, with a faint French accent on it. A victorious smile broke out on her face as she descended from the cargo. After dusting herself off, her eyes hungrily took in the writing on the page. The assassin suppressed a snort as the girls lips turned down into a comical frown. Maybe he should go tell Ben that whatever his book was about apparently wasn't appealing. She then titled her head slightly, as if the new angle would help her understand what was written in front of her. Connor heard her let out a sigh before stuffing the page in her purse._ Damn it _he growled to himself, _I need to get that page back.

_The sounds of birds in the distance remind Connor of his village and the fate that was befalling it. He gave the girl one last look as she exited the alley then hurried off to continue his search for Samuel Adams. He would worry about that page later._

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**Tah-dah!**

**The first chapter to Hiding My Heart.**

**What did you guys think? Follow, Fav, and Review to let me know what you thought and what you'd like to see :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I only own my original characters.**

**Thank you to everyone who favourited, followed, and reviewed! I'm thrilled with the response to the first chapter.**

**KXR: Thank you for having faith lol hope I hope disappoint you!**

**Tytue: I'm glad you enjoyed the first chapter! Hopefully what happens in this chapter is to your liking.**

**Mathlover15: Thank you and I hope you enjoy this chapter too!**

**Alpha Lima One: Thank you :D**

**Lover of Video Games: Awe shucks! You're too kind aha I hope this chapter lives up to your expectations!**

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The sun beat down on the Boston street, causing the air to smell thickly of blood and sweat. Two men panted as they stood above the corpses on the ground. A salty breeze from the sea began to trickle through and dissipate the smell of the fight. Connor wiped the blood off his tomahawk on the back on one of the fallen guards' jackets. He looked around, surprised the scuffle hadn't caught too much attention. He was grateful for that as he didn't want to have any unnecessary hassle in the city. Connor had a job to do, and he couldn't do it if the red coats were on his tail. Flashbacks to the Boston Massacre, as it was now being called, drifted through his mind. He ran all over the city to escape detection and probably wouldn't have succeeded if not for Samuel Adams. Speaking of which, said man was waiting for him. The Assassin looked over to see if the man he had aided was alright before he went on his way. The man was panting slightly, examining the blood on his clothes. He had a bandana on his head and a dirty apron on over a blue vest. Connor made sure his hood and weapons were all secure before walking over.

"Justice for once" the man said, his voice laced with a thick French accent. "I dare the Governor to send more." He leaned over and spat on one of the dead redcoats. The man was cocky, and Connor had to suppress a smirk at the man's haughty attitude.

"Are you alright?" the Assassin asked in a deep voice.

"Fine. It's not my first dance" he leaned towards Connor with a small smirk. "For all their teeth and claws, these little foxes, they fight like puppies!" He seemed to chuckle inwardly at his own witty remark before looking up at Connor again and grasping his arm lightly.

"Thank you my friend."

The darker man nodded.

"I'd buy you an ale, but I'm wanted somewhere else."

Once again Connor nodded. However the Frenchman didn't move. He took a look around, running a hand over his bearded chin. His eyebrows furrowed and he let out a frustrated sigh.

"Something the matter?" Connor asked, after the other man had been staring at the fallen guards for a while.

The man looked up and met the Assassin's gaze before closing his eyes and shaking his head.

"It is nothing" he answered. "I fear I shall be in quite a bit of trouble with my daughter after this."

"I'm sure she will understand that you were defending your home" Connor offered.

The Frenchman laughed. "You have not met my daughter, friend. She will not be 'appy I started another fight. I have a knack for it, you see." He winked. "Also, I think she will be slightly upset she missed it. My little lion is a fiery one, and she does enjoy sticking it to those lobsters every now and again. Ah well, we shall see. Per'aps I can 'ide this from her. As long as these morceau de merde tax collectors do not 'assle us any time soon."

The man said his farewell before turning to leave. Connor watched him walk into the crowd before continue to meet Samuel. The Assassin moved wordlessly through the Bostonians, never brushing or knocking into anyone. His mind filled with Johnson's plot to steal his peoples land, and it made his blood boil. He had to find Samuel and enlist his help quickly. He did not want his people to suffer if he could help it. Memories of that day surfaced, of Johnson telling the young Connor to listen to Charles Lee. The man had acted so kind, like he had Connor's best interest at heart. A growl slipped out of the man chapped lips. Johnson didn't care what happened to Connor or his people, he was selfish just like the other Templar. Just like his father. The man continued to inwardly fume as he walked. He didn't take in the beauty of Boston, just focused on his goal. His memory of the streets was a little foggy so it was talking him longer to reach the tavern Samuel said to meet him at. Connor listened in to the Bostonians around him. He hoped to hear something about the Templars, anything to tip him off to what his father and Charles Lee were up to.

"Isn't that the daughter of that French bastard? The one that took out Colin and some guards?"

The Assassin paused. A handful of tax collectors walked by him, one of them pointing forward. Something told him this was about the man he had helped. He leaned against the brick wall of a building with some other men to eavesdrop unnoticed.

"Yeah, I think that's her" he grumbled. "C'mon, she should be easier to deal with than her old man."

One of the men halted the group. "Afraid not. Apparently the girl takes after him. I heard she's a mouthy little bitch."

Another man snorted. "So? She's still a woman. We can take her if she starts to cause a problem. Maybe rough her up a bit for good measure." He wiggled his eyebrows at his companions and the men laughed. Connor felt his lips pull back into a snare. How dare they speak of a young girl that way. Part of him wanted to just walk away, after all he had his own problems to deal with. However he couldn't. Not only was this young woman in trouble, but she was the daughter of the gentlemen he had helped. He groaned inwardly at the distraction and looked over to where the men were heading, prepared to intervene if things got rough. His step faltered for a moment when he laid eyes on their target. _The girl from the alley _he realized. It seemed she had a knack for being a hindrance today. First she stole the alamanac page he'd been after, now she was stalling him from getting to his destination. Granted he didn't have to help her, but Connor could just leave after what those men had said. Growling once more he followed the tax collector as they intercepted the woman.

()()()()()

Leona ran her palm over her purse as she walked from the General Store. She was anxious to get back to the pub to read the mystery paper again. As she walked, her eyes searched for any more pages floating in the wind but to her disappointment found none. In her other hand she carried a bag with supplies, some for the tavern and some for the house. She had ordered the planks of wood and the man at the store said he would have them delievered since she couldn't carry them back. Giving up on finding more sheets of paper, Leona tried to see if she could spot the man in white. Her eyes landed on a group of men walking towards her. _Tax collectors _she grumbled. Lowering her chin, she hoped she would pass by unnoticed. She stole once last glance and it was then that she noticed the angry looks on their faces. Their steps were filled with determination and all their eyes were locked on her. _This cannot be good_. She continued forward, avoiding anyone's eyes and pretending she hadn't noticed the men. The tax collectors started to walk by and Leona couldn't stop the small sigh of relief that escaped her lips.

Suddenly fingers wrapped around her left arm and yanked her backwards. She was shoved against the neighboring wall as the collectors surrounded her.

"You're that French bastards girl, aye?" one of them snarled in her face. She could smell the ale on his breath as he loomed his ugly face over hers. When she didn't reply, he spat on the ground at her feet.

"Know what your father did?" he continued. The men began to close in more. "Fucked up ol'Colin, he did. Took a couple of guards too. All they were doing was reminding him of his _duties_." Leona tried to hide the shock in her eyes. Stephane did what? No, he couldn't have. He was working at the tavern. She had left him there an hour ago. The woman groaned inwardly. She couldn't leave her father alone for five minutes without him starting something. Regardless, she was in a tricky situation now. As much as she didn't like these men, they could arrest her or worst for what her father did. She had to be cautious and find a way out so she could wring her father's neck. She just had to keep a cool head…

"Gentlemen" the word tasted like dirt on her tongue, "there must have been a misunderstanding. Let me fetch my father and we can meet a town hall to settle this." She stepped forward, hoping to just walk out of the circle of men, but she was shoved back against the wall. Leona's eyes narrowed as she sighed in frustration. "There is no need to get rough. Now please, let me leave."

The men laughed. The man from before stepped closer again. "Sorry girlie, can't do that. See, you're a smart girl… attacking the innocent people ain't right, ya? That means some punishment is in order. Problem is, we don't know where your dear ol' dad scurried off to. Someone's gotta pay for his actions."

"The problem is that you aren't innocent people" she grumbled. _Oops…_

"What was that?" he growled, shoving her harder against the wall. His companions cheered him on.

Before she could stop them, words slipped from her lips. "Last I check, greedy pieces of scum didn't fall under the title of 'innocent'."

Muddy brown eyes flashed with anger. A hand reached up and grasped Leona's hair, pulling her head backwards. Her eyes scanned the streets behind the guards for some sort of aid, but everyone avoided looking at the scene. Sadly this kind of situation was an uncommon sight these days, and people knew they couldn't help even if they wanted to. It was better to ignore it and keep one's own family safe. Leona let out a small growl before spitting in the man face. She was pulled back by her hair, her head smashing into the wall behind her. The woman's head bobbed forwards slightly as her vision began to get fuzzy.

"You were right, Willy. The lil bitch does have quite a tongue on her" the man holding her sneered. He leaned towards her ear, "maybe once we deal with the money your father be ownin' us, we can see what else that tongue is good for."

The thought made the young woman sick, and she began to struggle against his hold. The tax collectors laughed. Leona looked around again, hoping to see anyone willing to help her. Her eyes landed on a tall figure clad in white, and just as quick as she saw him he vanished. Gurgling noises came from her left, and one of the tax collectors dropped to the floor. He squirmed in the dirt as blood spurted from his lips. More noise from her right. Another man down. The few men remaining became nervous, and the one holding Leona loosened his hold.

"The fuck is going on?" he mumbled, stepping back.

A shadow covered the woman for a second, than a figure landed in front of her. The man in white towered over her with his back to Leona. He was a fair bit taller than her; she only came a little above his shoulder. He was so close that the brunette's nose lightly brushed the back of his white jacket. He had an Earthy scent to him, like a forest after the rain. He had a strong presence about him too. Leona could almost see the strength and power radiating off him. His voice brought her out of her inner analysis of him.

"The lady said to let her go" the man in white spoke. His voice was deep and powerful. Unfortunately the tax collectors weren't as taken with Leona's savior has she was.

"Like hell. Listen freak, this ain't any of your business. Get lost." One of the men attempted to reached around and grab the woman but a leather clad hand snatched his wrist.

"Leave her be, and this doesn't have to get ugly" he growled. The seriousness of his tone frightened Leona a bit, and she was amazed at how the tax collectors still had the guts to stand up to this mysterious man.

One of the men to her left let out a snarl before lunging forward. He pulled a knife out of his jacket and swung it at the man in white. He had no trouble in dodging the blade, then reached out and snapped the tax collectors arm. Another came at him with a bayonet, which he knocked to the side, before snapping the man's neck. Leona took a step back and pressed herself against the wall. The stranger pulled two tomahawks from under his coat and spun them in each hand. He then lunched towards the remaining tax collectors.

Leona didn't condone violence, she wasn't blind to it having lived with her father and she knew that sometimes it was necessary, but she never enjoyed it. What this mysterious man in white was doing, was not violence. His movements were so fluid and graceful. Never once did he bump into an enemy or trip over his feet. It looked like a choreographed dance, the way the man in white dipped and weaved around the tax collectors. Leona barely noticed the sound of metal ripping flesh or the thud of bodies hitting the dirt. Her eyes never left him until the last of the tax collectors lie motionless on the ground. The smell of blood and dirt got caught on the wind and the young woman scrunched her noise. The sounds of the market slowly came back to her, as well as the voices of guards nearing. The man in white leaned over to pull his weapon out of one of the dead men. He snapped his head in the direction of the calls, and Leona heard him let out a sigh. He stood up quietly and grabbed Leona's wrist and dashed down the nearest ally. The guards called after them and she heard the sound of them chasing the pair. The stranger led her through the alleys, but Leona got the feeling he didn't know where he was going.

"Wait" she whispered, pulled her wrist closer to her. The alley the man in white was about to turn down was a dead end, and the woman knew it. The man turned his hooded face towards her, and she saw his mouth turned down into a frown. "It's a dead end" she added, looking around then pointed. "That way, there's a small alcove to hide just pass the large area."

The man nodded before pulling her down the alley she pointed out. She was about to point out the alcove but the man pulled her into it before she could speak. He covered her body with her, pressing her lightly against the brick wall. Her nose was once again filled with the man earthy scent. His head was turned to the side to watch for the guards, so Leona took the time to take it what little of his face she could see. He had a strong jaw, and full lips that seemed to be pulled into a permanent frown. He had high cheek bones and a masculine nose. He had a dark complexion, yet not too dark. _Possibly Spanish,_ she thought. No he didn't have an accent like the few Spaniards she knew. His voice was deep, with a subtle accent she couldn't place. After what felt like an eternity, the sounds of the guards filled the silent air. The red coats darted by them without noticing the hided party. They stayed in their hiding spot for a few moments after the guards left, and then the man in white took a step away from the woman. He turned so his back was once again to her and looked out cautiously into the alley. He raised a hand and signaled her forward. Leona frowned at being treated like a dog but complied none the less. The man had saved her life. She stepped into the alley and looked around, seeing no sigh of the guards. She turned back to her mysterious savior

"Well, thank you for-" her words caught in her throat. The man in white was nowhere to be seen. She spun around, eyes searching every inch on the deserted ally.

"..helping me" she whispered to herself.

The brunette sighed, giving the alley a once over before turning to leave. She frowned. _Well that was rude _she mused. However, Leona had a feeling this wasn't the last time she'd see the man in white. Suddenly the reason why she needed his help flooded her mind. Her father had attacked a tax collector and some guards. Light eyes narrowed. She hoped Stephane would control his foolish bloodlust. She didn't like the redcoats any more than her father did but she knew that given the political tension right now the last thing they needed was to start causing problems with the guards. Her father better be ready for an earful.

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**Woooo so there's chapter two! Let ****me know what you guys thought and what you hope to see!**

**You guys rock :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**First off let me apologize. I have no excuse other than life just got in the way. I had crazy writer's block then things got super hectic. I'm back now and will update steadily. Once again I'm sorry, but thank you to everyone who stuck with the story. You guys rock3**

**It's not a super long chapter. I just wanted to get it out to let you guys know I was alive.**

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**I'm telling you guys now so I don't get msgs being like 'wtf?', this chapter is going to delve into the relationship between Samuel and Leona WHICH IS PURLEY PLATONIC. Their friendship will be explained more throughout the story but I wanted to clarify it before anyone took it the wrong way.**

**There is no side Samuel/Leona business. **_**They're just friends**_**.**

**Thanks :)**

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"Sacrament!"

Leona cursed loudly as she smacked the hammer into her finger for the millionth time. She was lying on the ground by the broken window of her house, trying to fix the wooden frame. The filthy red coats had shattered the glass and the young woman had spent the last few hours prying the pieces from the ground and the frame. She was currently trying to straighten out the wood so she wouldn't have to go buy new pieces to replace it. It wasn't going too well. Leona popper her now throbbing finger into her mouth to try to dull the pain. She had given her father a piece of her mind once she had returned to the pub. The woman threatened not to fix it and to let the animals crawl in to drink all his ale, however Stephane had to work late and the thought of rats running around her home was rather unpleasant. So she, once again, took it upon herself to fix the house. William had let her leave early to fix the window before it got dark. Once she arrived home she changed into a pair of dark brown trousers and a baggy white tunic. She tied up her dark hair and tucked in under a large brown hat, getting straight to work.

That had been a few hours ago, and things weren't looking too good. The frame had been bent too badly on one side and Leona couldn't seem to straighten it. She would have to go buy wood to make a new frame. Groaning, the woman rolled onto her back. She enjoyed the warmth of the setting sun on her face and the cool wind that blew by.

"And here I thought you were such a hard worker" a voice chuckled.

Leona opened one eye and glared up at the man.

"Perhaps I'm just frustrated with always having to fix Papa's problems" she grumbled.

Samuel sighed and extended a hand to the girl. She took it and he hauled her to her feet. "He sent me to check on you. He would have come himself, but the pub was getting busy and he was worried you'd yell at him again." He winked at the last part.

Leona smiled and rolled her eyes. "Are you saying he wouldn't deserve it?"

"No, no" Samuel held his hands up in defense, "I'm just letting you know that you can instill fear into a full grown man."

The pair chuckled before Leona turned back to the window. She let out a sigh then let the hammer fall out of her hand. "Would you like to come in for a drink? I could use the break" she offered, turning back to face the man.

"I'd love to" Samuel smiled in return.

They walked up the small steps and into the warm house. Leona gestured for Samuel to sit at the table as she walking to the kitchen counter and took off her large hat. She pulled down two large glasses and took out a large pitcher of yellow liquid.

"Did your meeting go well?" Leona asked as she poured Samuel a tall glass of lemonade. "The one at the docks earlier."

The young girl extended the glass to him and he took it from her with a smile. "Fairly" he answered. "An old friend is back in town and is in need of my assistance with a matter."

The brunette covered her mouth with her hand to stiff her laugh. Samuel had a knack for dealing in things under the legal radar of the British. He enjoyed it too. If this 'friend' needed his help it was because he needed to do or get something that the British laws wouldn't allow. Picking up her glass of lemonade, she joined Samuel at the small kitchen table.

"Your assistance? Whatever the 'matter' is, it certainly isn't good than!" Samuel raised an eyebrow at the woman and she smirked back at her friend. "Is your friend a troublemaker like yourself, Mr. Adams?" she cooed, teasingly. She laughed once more when the man face morphed into a look of faux hurt.

Samuel gasped dramatically and placed a hand over his heart. "Your words wound me, my lady. I am nothing but an angel!" His expression became smug as he continued. "As for my friend, well you could say he gets himself into a fair bit of trouble. That is how we met, after all. I saved him from quite a sticky situation." The older man winked and Leona playfully rolled her eyes.

"Why am I not surprised? Well, I hope your friend is more legally inclined than you are. The last thing Boston needs is another agitator."

"I'm afraid you are quite wrong on that front, my dear."

Leona laughed. "Well, after today I wouldn't mind someone teaching the redcoats a bit of a lesson."

All playfulness then left the man face, and a small scowl replaced. He stared into his drink, and just as Leona was about to ask what was wrong he spoke. "Do you regret it?"

"What?" She blinked at him in confusion.

"Do you regret coming here, to Boston?" _Why would he ask such a thing? _She wondered.

"Of course not!" Leona replied, slightly offended.

"Stephane sometimes wonders if you do. He's worried about you Lee. He feels like he's putting you in danger. After you left the pub, he felt terrible. You could have been seriously hurt today… or worse.

"Today was not Papa's fault" Leona made a mental note to tell her father that herself later. "The redcoats are scum; they are the ones that attacked Papa and me. They are the violent ones."

Samuel sighed. "That isn't the only thing, Lee. He's also afraid he cannot provide everything you deserve, the proper lifestyle of a young lady. He cannot give you riches or a name to carry you through life. He won't be around forever, and he's worried about what will happen once he's gone. "

"Why would he ever think that? I've never once complained..."

"He feels guilty. He doesn't lead the most conventional life, but it suits him. He's just afraid that he's hindering you by making you live it too. He wonders if you would be better off with-" Leona cut him off before he could finish.

"Do not finish that sentence Samuel Adams! We could live in a box on the street and it would be better that living with that witch." The young girl started to seethe at the mere thought of her mother. How could Papa think that her life would be better with her?

"Lee, I don't think that's anyway to talk about your mother."

"You don't know her! You have no idea what she's like..."

"But do you ever desire more than this life, Leona? You could have whatever life you wanted, yet you stay here" the older man explained.

"No Samuel, "Leona sighed. "Mother may have money, but that does not make up for what she lacks. My mother never told me she loved me, because she didn't. She never told me she was proud of me or grateful, because she wasn't. To her I was nothing more than an object, something to dress up and sell to the highest bidder. She never considered me a daughter and I never felt like I had a mother."

Her words seemed to greatly affect Samuel, and the man reached out his hand and rested it on hers. "Don't get me wrong, Stephane loves you and loves you living with him, but he wonders whether he is holding you back. You have to admit you don't live the life of a conventional woman. While others are sewer and baking, you're fixing windows and tables. While other women chase down potential husbands, you're serving a band of rebel's ale. You have a mouth as foul as a sailors and a temper to rival your old man's."

Leona chuckled, her temper dying down. "And I wouldn't trade it for anything, Samuel. I enjoy the life I lead, I really do. I left Mother because she wanted me to be something I didn't. She wanted me to be a quiet housewife. She told me to never speak unless spoken to, never make eye contact with a man unless he addresses you first, and never EVER have an opinion. Can you see me in such a lifestyle? I couldn't, so I left without the smallest hesitation. Do you not think that if I did not wish to live this life that I would have done so again? I love Papa, more than I could ever love Mother, because he lets me be who I want to be and loves me regardless. Most of all, Papa needs me. He cared about me and enjoys my company, Mother never did. To her I was merely an investment for the future, to get her in good with the higher-ups."

Samuel sighed and looked at the young girl. "I suppose I can't argue with that" he chuckled, after a moment of silence. He looked out the window to the darkening sky, before turning his attention back to Leona. "If you have to go to the store, I'd go now. It's getting late."

Leona checked for herself to see that indeed it was. She nodded and stood up. She placed both their glasses on the counter, she's washed them when she got home, then turned back to her guest. "Care to walk with me for a bit?" she asked.

Samuel smiled. "Of course."

He stood and offered him her arm. The woman just stared at him with an eyebrow raised, before gesturing to her outfit. The older man blushed slightly and ran a hand through his hair. "Right, I forgot. We'd look a little strange wouldn't we?"

Leona laughed and grabbed her hat. She tucked her hair under the brown rim and headed towards the door. "Shall we?"


End file.
